Sirius II
Sirius was sore. After much pleading and begging his Uncle had reluctantly agreed to resume the duelling lessons of his youth. It quickly became much more than he had bargained for. Alphard, despite his age, was the fastest duellist he had ever known. There was a certain grace to the movement of his uncle's form that he would one day hope to have as well. But as his uncle said, "Find your own style stop trying to mimic mine."
Groaning, he looked up at the photo on his wall. The Marauders. Oh, how he missed them so much. He had gotten word from Moony a couple days ago. James was okay and was set to be released from St Mungo's in a week. It was probably the only set of good news he had heard in the last week. Following the incident where Wormtail damn near blinded his brother, his mother had forbidden him from leaving the house or having any of his "blood traitor friends" over.
If only he could be there when James got out. He pushed the anger and bitterness down as he looked up at the scarlet and gold banners that adorned his room. Another month and he would be free again. A loud crack disrupted his self-pity. It was Kreacher.
"Mistress commands Master Sirius to dress for tonight's dinner," said Kreacher, bowing deeply.
"Tell her I'm not going," he said as he rolled over and buried his face into his pillow. A stupid summer solstice party was not something he had any interest in. It would be full of all the stuffy purebloods deemed worthy by his family. He couldn't think of a worse situation to be in.
"Mistress has ordered Kreacher to force spoiled brat to do as she says," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Kreacher hopes Master resists, Master is an unruly brat that needs—"
"Enough Kreacher," said Orion Black, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he entered the room. Without breaking stride he kicked Kreacher out of the way as he walked in.
"Get up boy, I won't ask twice."
Sirius rolled back over and reluctantly got up. He had made the mistake of not obeying that command once a long time ago. But only once.
"You are a disgrace to your noble ancestors," Orion says, his lips curling up in disgust.
Sirius rolled his eyes. He had heard this one already. A pathetic disappointment, he guessed next.
"You have shamed me and your name for the last time."
He could have guessed that one. Sirius bowed his head and looked down at the dark wood of his floor. How many times has this exact conversation happened before? He was sick of it. His father continued lecturing but Sirius heard none of it. He kept his eyes down but kept a close watch on his father's hands. If they twitched he knew he was going to be cursed. He knew the signs.
Then there it was, his father's right hand, the one with the ring with the Black family crest proudly displayed, twitched. Sirius raised his head defiantly, bracing himself for the excruciating pain to follow, but his father did something unexpected.
Orion hadn't gone for his wand. He had grabbed his chin.
"Look at me," Orion said commandingly as his fingers gripped his jaw tightly. Sirius winced but met his father's eyes.
Cold and grey irises stared back. Ironically the same ones he saw when he looked in the mirror every day.
"You're the spitting image of me, boy. Yet how can you be so different?"
Sirius gaped at him. This was certainly a different approach.
"When you were born, I knew no greater joy. Now you disgrace me consorting with mudbloods and blood traitors. I am tired of fighting you, boy. Where is your pride?"
"Pride?" Sirius gave an uneven laugh, short and bitter. "What is there to be proud of? I've got a coward for a brother, too scared to step one foot out of line, not to mention a psychopath for a mother—"
Orion slapped him hard across the face, the softness in his eyes replaced with the cold steel Sirius had grown to know. But he made no noise, as his face whipped to the side.
"How dare you speak of your mother that way?"
Raising his hand to his cheek gingerly, Sirius glared back. "Because I know the truth you can't see. She's an evil bitch."
His father hit him again. His cheek reddened and his legs began to wobble.
"Apologize."
Ignoring the tears in his eyes he raised his head again. "I will not."
Orion leaned forward. "Then you will stay in your room with no meals until such a time you are ready to treat her with respect."
Sirius had nothing to say, for what was there to say.
"Tonight, this all ends," said Orion as he paced back and forth. "Your mother and I are at wit's end. You'll be apprenticed to me, and learn the family business. Your education has been neglected, and that ends now. You'll meet suitable girls, handpicked by your mother and me. Treat them with decency, or face consequences. No driving them away, yourself or their families. And if this summer you do not behave as I have directed, I will pull you from Hogwarts."
"You wouldn't da—"
Orion hit him again. Sirius fell to the floor clutching his nose. Blood began trickling down his face. He was sure it was broken.
"I will not tolerate your behaviour anymore boy. Clean yourself up in a matter befitting your name and come downstairs. I give you one hour." Orion turned and began walking away when he stopped. "And should you choose not to come—," he took a breath, "So Merlin help me I will disown you. Come Kreacher."
The door slammed shut.
It had to be a bluff, he thought as he lay back on the floor. Alphard's warnings echoed in his mind. Maybe it wasn't a bluff. Either way, he couldn't do this anymore. He looked back up at the picture on the wall, the four of them beaming and waving at the camera. He had to be free.
Ignoring the blood and tears on his face, he began throwing his few possessions into the duffel bag Peter had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago. There wasn't much to pack. Zipping the bag up he looked around his room and came to terms. He would never come back here again.
Slowly he crept down the stairs, being extra careful as he passed by his brother's room. He would go to the Potter's. They would take him in he was sure of it.
But what if they don't want you.
He shook his head as if he could get rid of his own thoughts. He crept along faster, towards the back door when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.
"And where do you think you are going."
Sirius turned fearing the worst. "Uncle?"
"Bloody hell, you're quite the mess aren't you." Alphard tapped his nose with his wand and it straightened with a crack.
"Uncle I don't have time I have to go!"
"Go where? Running away from home now are we?"
Sirius pushed away but the grip of his uncle remained firm.
"I know how hard it is," said Alphard as he gripped the lapels of Sirius's coat. "Why do you think I agreed to teach your stubborn ass?"
"Because you know I'm your favourite family member?"
Alphard sighed hard. "Did you forget everything I told you? Obey your damn parents, just til you're out of their reach!"
"You don't understand how hard that is!"
"I lived with my sister for damn near eighteen years!" Alphard said his voice shaking, "I know best of all people what a twisted person Walburga is. But Sirius I'm begging you, trust me."
Sirius stopped fighting and his Uncle let go. "Fine."
"That's the spirit lad," said Alphard with a forced smile. "Let's go put on our dress robes eh?"
Alphard was right. If anyone would know how horrible his mother was it would be him. And he was the only Black he knew that somehow simultaneously stayed in and out of the Black sphere of influence.
Reluctantly he put on the ebony dress robes his Uncle had already picked out for him. They had been on sale apparently.
When he arrived downstairs, (after taking his sweet time of course) the house was already decorated and bustling. Many of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were there: Malfoy, Lestrange, Selwyn and all of the other stuck-up purebloods in the country. Hating himself and everyone around him, he walked into the magically expanded ballroom. Mother had clearly gone all out, house elves that he did not recognize floated around with trays of all sorts of appetizers and drinks. Large circular tables were on one end of the room where most people were already seated.
"Where have you been?" hissed Regulus as he grabbed Sirius's sleeve. "Mum has been looking for you!"
Regulus looked a lot better now that his eye was swollen shut.
"I don't want to see her right now," said Sirius as he snatched his arm back.
"But—"
Sirius pushed him away. He had no doubt his mother had some horrible betrothal lined up or some other bullshit like that.
"Have some decorum goodman," said a rich baritone voice.
Sirius turned and immediately resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, it was Rosier. The perfect pureblood in every way. Dressed to the nines, tall, brutishly handsome, and oh of course deeply involved in the Dark Arts. He had no doubt his mother would trade him for Mulciber in a heartbeat.
"Rosier love, looking as obnoxious as ever," he said with the fakest pleasantries he could muster. "What do you want."
"My dear man, it is unfitting to have such a horrible scowl on such a lovely face," said Mulciber smiling broadly as he reached over as if to cup his chin.
Sirius slapped his hand away and drew his wand. "Touch me and I'll make sure your pig of a mother can't even recognize you."
"Lighten up Black, we're at a party for Merlin's sake. I am surprised you are here though," he said with a deep chuckle. "I'm glad this means you finally are seeing the light. I mean the Blacks have been the pureblood family for the last century. To have their eldest son, their heir, to be frolicking with blood traitors and mudbloods, it's a good thing—."
Sirius jabbed him, "Silencio"
To his annoyance, Rosier raised his wand and applied the counter curse with a casual flick. "Put that away before you hurt yourself, Black, have you no shame?
Regulus began grabbing his arm, "He's not worth it Sirius."
"Yes hide behind your brother Black, cowardly lot you are."
Sirius spun around and found that Rosier also had his wand pointed at him.
"Fine," he said spitting at the feet of Rosier, "I challenge you to a duel you miserable bastard."
A hush overcame the room. He had spoken louder than he had thought. He could hear Regulus groaning.
Rosier threw his head back and laughed. "A duel Black? Be it on your own head."
"Enough there will be no duelling tonight!" said Alphard as he elbowed his way to where they were standing.
"No Alphard, let the two fight," said Walburga wickedly. She got up from her table at the centre of the room. "A Black has issued a challenge and it has been accepted."
"Indeed. Who shall be your second, boy?"
"We're the same age you prick," said Sirius as he breathed out heavily.
"I will be the boy's second," said Alphard, his face set in a grim line.
A murmur passed around the room, and Sirius noted with a hint of satisfaction a look of worry that flitted across Rosier's face.
"And I will be Evan Rosier's second," said a silky voice. The room fell completely silent.
"I don't believe we have had the pleasure, Mr Black. You may call me Marvolo."
Rosier grinned.
~O~
The appearance of Marvolo was not one Sirius knew what to make of. According to Regulus, Bella had invited him, some up-and-coming politician or something. How good he was with the wand, he didn't know. But he had Uncle Alphard, and as far as he could tell that was all that mattered.
"Focus Sirius," said Alphard, his face unusually grave. "Remember what we've practised. Hopefully, you won't need me."
"You know I won't, I save you remember," said Sirius, his confidence growing. He watched as his father and some of the other men cleared the tables and began creating a circle. Alphard gestured forward, "In you go."
Sirius took a deep breath and stepped in, and Rosier did as well from the other end.
Rosier began tying his long dark gold hair into a ponytail as he smiled at Sirius.
"You are a fool." The sudden remark from Rosier startled him.
"I am going to humble you Sirius Black," Rosier said as he stared into his eyes. "You think you have some sort of morality tucked away because you love your little mudbloods? You think you are better than me when really you are less. Much less. You are playing a game you cannot win."
Sirius ignored him and focused on his breathing. In and out. Aimlessly, he turned his wand over in his hand shifting his weight when his grandfather entered the circle.
"You two know the rules. To first blood or yield. Gentlemen, bow."
Sirius tilted his head slightly as he maintained eye contact with Rosier who was doing a full bow.
"On my mark," said Arcturus, then he stepped out of the circle and the lines drawn flashed blue.
Sirius swayed to the side as a bludgeoning curse flew past his shoulder. By Merlin, Rosier was fast. Deftly, he deflected the next curse and watched as another curse missed wide.
"Come on you coward you can do better than that!" he said mockingly.
Rosier's lips curled back from his teeth, and he charged, his movement swift and powerful. Roaring, glowing curses spat from his wand. It was like fighting a charging gorilla.
Sirius narrowly dropped to a knee as a vicious cutting curse whipped through the air where his head had been moments prior. He heard the crowd shout at this, this had quickly become more than an honour duel; this was a fight to the death.
Swearing, he backpedaled but it was all he could do to keep pace with him and avoid tripping. His uncle had taught him to duel with elegance. To use the momentum and aggression of your opponent against them. But this was an onslaught he was not prepared for. The maelstrom that was Evan Rosier was going to kill him. As another cutting curse smashed into his shield, he thought back to James and his chest split open. He looked to the side, his brother and uncle looking up at him concerned. A sudden headrush overcame him. No, he would not die today.
The noise of the gathered faded, replaced by the panting of breath, the shout of spells, and the immediate terror of a duel beyond that of a schoolyard fight. Sirius ignored the shaking of his left hand as another curse narrowly missed him.
Exhaling, he sent back a curse made by his Great-great-great grandfather, and he began to laugh as for the first time in the duel Rosier stumbled. He began to find his rhythm, matching the taller boy curse for curse, the air cracking with power, as the teachings of Alphard came back to him. Parrying and firing. As if possessed he began the counters of his own. Feinting his wand upwards as if he were going to send another cutter but then sending a plume of fire down forcing Rosier back. Rosier stumbled as the blue fire scorched the ground of the duelling circle in front of him. Quickly, he spun his wand intending to break Rosier's shield.
But Rosier had no quit. Cursing Sirius loudly, he with his off-hand put out the flames and sent a jet of white light that grazed Sirius's leg.
Sirius bit down hard as a line of fire raced across his hip. Gritting his teeth, he took a second to look down. It was a burn wound. No blood. He was still in it.
Weaving, he cast a powerful knockback jinx, when all of a sudden Rosier dropped his guard. Rosier dropped to a knee and seemingly dropped his wand. Sirius froze at the sight of his unarmed opponent.
It was a trick. Rosier exploded upwards. The following curse was the hardest he'd ever felt. The hastily conjured shield charm he barely cast reverberated and shook his arms as it barely held. All the momentum he had vanished. Pain lanced through his arms and legs as Rosier banished him backwards, his shield charm finally giving out.
"I knew you were too weak Sirius."
Sirius reached for his wand but it was just out of reach. Desperately he crawled forward when Rosier kicked him hard in the side. He looked up and accepted it. He would not die begging for his life he thought, when an invisible hook pulled him out of the circle.
It was his uncle.
"On your guard Rosier," said the elder Black as he stepped in place of his nephew. The circle flashed red, then blue.
"Another Black to humble it seems," said Rosier, his white smile stretching wide. "Let's see if you truly befit your title as a peerless."
It was over in seconds. Rosier slumped on the floor as blood poured from the wide gash on his cheek.
"I will wear this scar with pride," Rosier said with a sheepish cough.
"A good showing from our future," said Marvolo as he casually stepped forward. "Consider me impressed by both gentlemen."
"On your guard Mr Black." And just like that it was on again.
Alphard spun his wand and his shield intercepted the curse that Marvolo cast.
Sirius whooped as his Uncle deflected another two curses and broke the shield of Marvolo. But to his worry, the pale handsome man only smiled.
Then Marvolo actually began to try. He did it slowly, the power in his curses and movements growing. His wand was a blur. Four curses flew from his wand, screaming death. Then five. Six. Then seven. The magic number seven, an impossible feat. Only Grindelwald was said to have the skill to do such a thing. Marvolo didn't have the show of brutish force like Rosier but seemed to have infinitely more power. Though he lacked the poetic grace of Rosier, there was a different fluidity in his movement. That of a predator. Sirius began to panic as for the first time, he saw his Uncle struggle.
Marvolo paused and seemingly decided that mere curses were beneath him. Twisted dark shadows began pouring from his wand as a great serpent began to form. Alphard fired on the snake but to no avail. Marvolo brandished his wand as if conducting an orchestra and the snake sprung forward and wrapped itself around Alphard. Panicking, the first wand of the House of Black began cocooning himself in a pale blue shell.
It was a waste of energy, as Marvolo waved his wand casually and the shell shattered. Alphard froze as the snakes wrapped themselves around him, and they fell to the floor when they vanished.
Stunned, Sirius watched as the gathered members of the pureblood elite whispered frantically amongst themselves.
Marvolo stepped forward and tapped Alphard on the head with his pale white wand. Alphard stood up with a gasp and sat back down seemingly disoriented. Marvolo patted him on the head and stepped out of the circle.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said smoothly, his voice like ice. "I am the head of the Walpurgis Knights."
This hushed the crowd.
"I see the corruption in our Ministry and in our youth," he continued. "I see how muggle-loving fools like Dumbledore and our dear minister Minchum try to rob us purebloods of our standing. If we continue down this path of doing nothing, everything we value and hold dear will die. I will not stand for it. I give you all an offer. Pledge your gold, men, and allegiance to me and I will topple these fools and give you all that you desire. Think about it."
With that he pointed his wand at the floor and a mysterious skull and snake insignia appeared on the ground. Then he disappeared in a flash of black smoke.